


Winter 2016 Pinesmas Collection

by PineWreaths



Series: Pinesmas [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Multi, Swapplegangers AU, pinecest - Freeform, spectrum au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:36:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8876179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineWreaths/pseuds/PineWreaths
Summary: A collection of various prompt-based stories, all of them holidays-related and in no particular chronological/relational order. The tags refer to at least one story in the collection containing that subject.





	1. A Team Effort

_From the[Spectrum AU.](http://pinewreaths.tumblr.com/post/128548907515/spectrum-part-1)_

Dipper could scarcely believe it, but they were back at the Mystery Shack for the winter again. He looked to his sister in the orange sweater, smiling as “Mabel” gave him a long and saucy wink. This wasn’t his original sister, but rather ‘Belle,’ a clone his sister had made of herself this last summer.

It had been a wonderfully pleasant surprise and an unforgettable summer, but had threatened to be a huge problem as the end of the summer had neared. While the new sisters had been able to hide themselves in Ford’s empty study while he was abroad, Dipper knew there was no way they could evade their parents for almost an entire year when they had to leave for home.

Luckily, Ford had been the answer there too. His new sister ‘BB’ seemed to think on the same wavelengths as Dipper, and had found a device during their exploration of Ford’s lab and study that might help.

As he remembered the generator, Dipper glanced back to the backpack it was stashed in in the backseat. The generator, nicknamed in Ford’s notes as “The Getaway Device,” was a miniaturized multidimensional portal. It was easy to set up, could open in a matter of seconds, and typical of Ford’s engineering skill it also plugged into a standard wall outlet for power. Dipper had been surprised given that the portal Ford had been trapped through was the size of a warehouse and used most of the electrical grid for all of Gravity Falls, but this portal wasn’t powerful enough to even reach a truly separate dimension. Instead, it created a niche of spacetime that it could access at will and store stuff in.

With this, Dipper and his sisters had their answer. It was cramped, but a few rugs and bunkbeds could fit into the swirling room and helped make it a little more homey. Dipper constantly had it plugged in whenever he possibly could, stashed in his closet so the glow wouldn’t be visible to a stray parent entering the room. Although the interior never ran out of fresh air, Dipper knew full well how claustrophobic it could feel, and he always made sure that the portal was never closed for more than an hour or two at the most when it was otherwise unavoidable.

His sisters traded off who got to play “Mabel,” including his original sibling. There were disagreements at times, and Dipper tried as much as he could to trade off with a sister so they could get an extra shift off while he was in the portal instead. BB and one of his other sisters, Mare, were respectively brainy and stocky enough that with his hat, a temporary red-pen forehead birthmark, and not too many close looks, they could easily pass for Dipper even to their parents.

As much as he loved their parent’s house in California, the Mystery Shack was where they got to be truly home, as a family with all the sisters together. There had been the risk of being seen by someone on the drive in, but as soon as the car came to a stop, Dipper was racing up the steps and fumbling his keys through the door. Their Grunkles were still off on the _Stan O’ War II,_ and wouldn’t be back for almost a full week.

The Mystery Shack was empty.

He pulled the backpack off, unfolding the Getaway Device and plugging it in, and mashing the _OPEN_ button as soon as it hummed to life. There was a tumble of bodies almost falling through, and Dipper leaned forward to catch and break as many falls as they could.

One sister sat up, the overall purple theme to her clothing and hairband marking her as his original sister Mabel.

“Hoo boy, remind me not to eat tuna before a car trip again, right girls?”

There was a general nodding of heads, and a few of the faces looked a little green around the gills. Poking his head through, Dipper could see a picnic table laid out with bread, open containers of tuna salad, and mustard packets. The smell made his stomach do an unpleasant loop, and he quickly withdrew and took a gulp of fresh and cold Oregon air.

Mabel straightened up, her eyes narrowing a little as she strode over to Belle. “Oh, and one more thing-”

Belle leaned backwards slightly, somewhat surprised but not too shocked as Mabel thrust a finger under her nose.

“You _knew_ we were on a schedule, and wanted to get to Gravity Falls. Why would you keep offering Dipper -keep offering-”

She sputtered, her annoyance and anger mixing with embarrassment. Dipper, for his part, flushed crimson and stayed silent.

Belle merely grinned. “What, offer to give Dipdot a little _road head_?” She shrugged, the gesture slipping the edge of her orange sweater off her shoulder and revealing a bare and clearly bra-less shoulder. The way she said the last two words was with a grin and a slightly-raised voice, and Dipper could see the other five sisters look over to see what was going on. BB blushed and went back to packing a sleeping bag back into a sack, while Marian had her mouth open slightly, one hand starting to edge under her indigo-colored hoodie she had converted from an old sweater.

“Besides, it’s not like we were late or anything.” Belle grinned. “Dip is of the _utmost_ moral character, and refused citing your exact predicament.”

Two long steps over, and she was next to Dipper, one hand threading a finger through his belt loop and sliding a thumb between his boxers and his hip. “OF course, now there’s no reason we can’t have a little fun-”

She ran the hand along the front of Dipper’s rapidly-tightening jeans, but made a groan of disappointment that closely mirrored Dipper’s own when Gabby grabbed her hand, her green wrist bracelets jingling with the sound of sleigh bells and flashing with the little miniature christmas-light LEDs that were twined together.

“Oh no you don’t: we had a plan, remember? Everyone together, and then individual funtimes later.”

Belle huffed and pouted out a lip, but quickly the smile returned with a shrug as she said “Ah, right. I forgot about the plan.”

May had already found a little sparrow alighting on her shoulder as she sat near the window, and she turned over and said in a saccharine voice “Oh, I absolutely _looove_ this _plan!”_

At this point, Dipper knew they were baiting him and his love for plotting. Still, he couldn’t resist taking said bait anyways.

“What do you mean, ‘plan?’”

As one, his sisters all gave him wide, Cheshire-cat grins. Gabby spun and dove into her suitcase, and yanked out a red and white-trimmed Santa suit.

“Well, for starters, you’ll be wearing this. Then we’ve got our own costumes to match yours. What’s next will have to be up to your imagination for now!”

Dipper groaned with a grin, chuckling as he took it and the sisters and stood in front of the portal, facing him. Mabel spoke up this time, her grin infectious and practically humming with excitement.

“Now, no peeking, or you don’t get to participate in any funtimes-” this was punctuated by a disappointed _‘awww’_ from Mare “-and we’ll just have to have all the fun ourselves.” This was met by an excited _‘oooh’_ from Marian.

Dipper just nodded slowly, and watched as they all scurried back into the portal. He shook out the costume, noticing how the suit clearly was designed to hug his own slim frame rather than hold any artificial or actual pudge and paunch.

As he pulled on the first black boot, his mind raced ahead to what he might see.

_Maybe an army of Mrs. Clauses? Maybe, but I feel like Mrs. Claus is typically dressed too grandmotherly for one of my sister’s tastes. Maybe helper elves instead?_

The thought definitely clicked into place, and Dipper’s mind’s eye provided an image of an array of sexy elves, prancing out in color-coordinated striped tights, satin mini-skirted dresses, and too-low bosoms that accentuated off her lovely breasts held barely in place by the fabric. He pulled on the Santa coat, leaning backwards in the wooden chair as he fantasized. One hand drifted down the velvet clothing to the tent in his pants, idly rubbing his cock through the layers as his mind wandered to thoughts of pointed ears, color-coded lipsticks, and soft breathy giggles in his ear as he heard the tinkling of little bells all around-

“Dip?”

He sat up, seeing just one of his sister’s heads poking through the portal. He couldn’t tell which one she was, but just smiled at her and said “Ready.”

She nodded. “Okay, just close your eyes then.”

Dipper nodded and did so, leaning backwards as he let his mind fill in the blanks. He heard padded footsteps, and more than a few jingle of bells. He grinned despite himself as they giggled and filed in, until he heard the hum of the portal disappear with a _click._

“All right, go ahead and open them, Santa.” The last bit was accompanied by a bout of giggles from all of his sisters, and Dipper opened his eyes to see his sisters all dressed in sexy-

_-reindeer costumes?_

Dipper’s train of thought jumped the tracks, plummeted down a hill, and burst into flames at the bottom as he saw his sisters, each wearing a full-body brown jumpsuit with a white stomach and faint printed-on waves of fur. Each of them had a set of brown antlers on a headband, and a choker each of a different color with sleigh bells attached. One of them, probably Mare judging from the red choker, also had a red Rudolph nose that was lit up and stuck over her own nose.

There was another smattering of giggling, and then a roughly-in-unison cry of “Surprise!” before they broke into more giggles. Dipper just laughed in amazement, his brain still trying to figure out what had just happened.

It wasn’t an _unpleasant_ sight, as he saw Belle in her orange collar already running a finger down along the zipper line

With a grin, Mare stepped forward, and said “Remember girls, we work as a team.” Her grin widened, and she tapped her bulbous nose with a finger.

“But whoever has the nose gets to take the lead.”

There was a set of nods all around, and Dipper watched as various hands went to zippers, pulling and tugging and revealing as he felt himself harden into steel with arousal. Mare stepped forward, helping Dipper pull aside the fabric, and as she sat heavily onto him with a groaning sigh, he pulled her close and met her mouth with his.

 _I think I like playing Santa,_  he thought as Mare began to grind her hips against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Anon: "When Mabel suggested some sexy holiday cosplay Dipper though he’d be Santa and she’d be an elf. He did not expect 8 sexy Mabel reindeer."


	2. The Christmas Poem

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for a girl creeping on tip-toes down the stairs. Avoiding the step that creaked, dodging over the step that groaned, she reached the bottom in silence, and crept over to the mantleplace. The way was well-lit despite the hour, thanks to the shimmering tree adorned with lights, tinsel, and enough glass ornaments to almost tip the overworked tree over.

She snuck to the array of stockings, each with a large initial embroidered on the top ruff. Sliding open the top, she slips in the envelope; although she cannot see it in the insufficient light, the envelope is a red and white striped candycane pattern, with a glossy sticker in the shape of a lipsticked pair of lips over the main flap of the letter.

Mabel had been very careful, exceedingly cautious to make sure she didn’t mix up which letter had gone into which envelope. One held a poem of sweet and harmless Christmas wishes for Dipper in the new year: perfectly acceptable for reading aloud in front of parents as they did every year.

The other was…not so acceptable for being read aloud. _That_ poem was for _later,_ for that evening for Dipper to read to himself or read in murmurs to Mabel while she nuzzled and nibbled at his ear.

She had been careful, checking and double-checking that the nice letter went in the envelope with the snowflakes, while the naughty letter was in the candy-cane envelope. No-one could say she hadn’t been careful.

Of course, later that night, when she had moved something on her desk looking for the car keys so they could go out to look at lights around the neighborhood, she had accidentally moved the candy-cane envelope on _top_ of the snowflake one, and the near-darkness hadn’t lent itself to seeing the difference.

She’d find out soon enough.

* * *

 

“Well go on now, sweetie, read yours!”

Dipper gave a good-natured groan as his mom insisted that he go next. Mabel had little happy glittery tears in her eyes at his poem; it was stilted, awkward, and about as formulaic as a chemical equation, but the underlying meaning came from the heart and managed to shine through despite his thoroughly unpoetic nature.

The parents hadn’t noticed the tears, or if they had they had written it off as being simply platonic sibling affection. He and his twin had engaged in this game for the last few years, carrying innocent messages with double-entendres and as much hidden meaning as they dared to show their feelings for one-another.

He pulled the festive red-and-white striped envelope from his stocking, scooting it past Toblerones and a little wind-up Gobblewonker Mabel must have bought from Grunkle Stan’s gift shop. However, as soon as he pulled the letter free, Mabel went as white as a sheet, and began stammering out some words as she made to grab for it.

 _“Ah_ -ha, heh, uh, _Dipper_ … I, uh, I accidentally put in the wrong card. If you can just give me that back, I’ll go-”

Their mom chuckled. “Mabel, honey, what do you mean? His name is on it and everything!”

Dipper turned the sealed envelope around, and could clearly see _“To: Dipper! From: Mabel!”_ with little hearts dotting the ‘i’s and exclamation points. He cocked his head as Mabel swallowed and started to speak, before being cut off by their father.

“Heh, what Mabes, did you accidentally make a naughty letter filled with mean thoughts? You don’t need _me_ to come over there and read it, now do you?”

Mabel just made a little squeak of terror, peeped out _“No._ No, Dipper can go ahead and read it.” Their dad chuckled, and Dipper glanced over at Mabel, whose eyes were full of a mixture of fear, worry, and pity.

He broke the seal, and slid out the letter, on a stationary edged with little dancing snowmen and elves.

Mabel feverishly hoped her parents didn’t bother to look _too_ closely at exactly what the snowmen and elves were doing as they “danced.”

“Dear Dipper, my best and truest friend,” he began. Mabel almost couldn’t bear to watch the monster she had just unleashed.

“I can’t wait to show you how this n-” Dipper stumbled to a stop, as his brain, reading ahead like it always did, hit the emergency brakes and slammed his mouth shut.

“Dipper? What does it say?” Their mom was curious, but had probably thought he had encountered one of the rare words he didn’t know, or more commonly, one of the words he did know but had no idea to properly pronounce aloud.

 _I can’t wait to show you how this night will end._ He took a long breath, glancing over to Mabel’s wide eyes with equally-wide eyes of his own.

So that was why she was trying to wrestle the letter away from him. His mom was giving him an insistent look as she kindly said “Well, go on sweetie, read us the rest.” He swallowed and continued.

“I can’t wait to show you how this neat year will end.”

Mabel quietly let out a held breath, and Dipper read ahead and frantically composed poem to compensate for what he was reading.

_Tonight you’ll get to see an outfit just for you,_

“Tonight you’ll, us, you’ll see…the lights in our neighborhood.”

_There’s not a lot of fabric, and it’s really quite see-thru._

“There’s not a lot of…uh…snow, now, but I think it looks pretty good.”

Their mother cocked her head, eyes darting to the week-old six inches of white slushy snow sitting outside, and Dipper could hear her murmur to their dad _“Interesting, uh, sentiment there.”_

Mabel just had her face in her hand.

_But first you get some loving, on your ‘Little Dip,’_

“But first you get some loving-” Mabel’s head shot up, her eyes wide with terror “-with pizza pies, my treat!” Her eyes lost the sheen of terror, and narrowed slightly in annoyance as Dipper let out a little half-hearted grin and their mother beamed and said “Ah, how sweet of your sister!”

_And then I plan to tease you, maybe just the tip._

“I know just how you like them: cheesy, with extra meat!”

Dipper couldn’t resist a glance at Mabel, and saw her expression had gone _very_ carefully neutral.

Well darn it, if he had to make something up on the spot Dipper figured he might as well have some fun with it.

_Afterwards I’ll ride you, long and soft and hard,_

“Afterwards I’ll ride with you, out to your favorite park.” He enjoyed the slight intake of panicked breath, but then the sudden look of realization as he mentioned the park, a local indoor and spacious arboretum. He and his twin snuck out there on a very regular basis, since it was typically quite comfortably warm, empty of most people, and offered plenty of trees for convenient privacy.

After all, one could do worse than be horny teens under birches.

_I anticipate this fucking will be the longest part._

“I anticipate this, uh, drive, will be the longest part.” He emphasized the word, enjoying the firm-lipped control Mabel was trying to exercise. She was sitting on one of the padded kitchen chairs in her long elf-themed nightdress, and it might have just been his imagination but he thought he saw her hips shift distinctly on the stuffed cushion.

_I bought us both a ball gag, in case you make me scream,_

Dipper coughed, trying to cover his abrupt flush and choke mid-thought. Their mom leaned forward, rolling her eyes. “What now, is she going to tease you with promises of gifts or something?”

Dipper coughed again, the sound more like a squeak. “S-something like that.” He cleared his throat and continued,

“I bought us both a, uh, a…erm…” He was acutely aware of his parent’s expectant stares, and Mabel made a little _hurry-up_ gesture with her hand.

“I bought us both tickets, to an out-of-town ballet.” Mabel’s hand fell, and she gave Dipper an _are-you-kidding-me-right-now?_ look. Their mom’s smile perked back up, and she murmured “Well, that’s nice.”

_As well as satin sheets, just to set the scene._

“As well as a hotel room, so we can use our own valet!” Mabel had her arms crossed in annoyance, but a moment later she perked up with a beaming grin that was matching Dipper’s half-hidden grin. Their mom looked over to Mabel, saying quietly “Honey, that’s a big expense! Let us know if you need to cover part of the cost; we love that you’re going all-out for your brother this year for gifts, but we don’t want it to be a burden, okay?”

Mabel just nodded absently, and Dipper could almost read her thoughts. They had zero intention of going to a ballet, and most likely the valet would never see their keys; instead, Dipper had just given them at least a weekend all to themselves in a hotel, with room service and no worries that the staff were anyone local who might recognize them. He gave Mabel a little wink when their parents weren’t looking,a nd she gave him a little thumbs-up.

_Anal is an option, as a special Xmas treat,_

Dipper coughed again, and Mabel’s grin turned mischievous as she recalled the line he must have been on.

“A-all of these are options, as a special Xmas treat.”

_But mostly I want you inside me; I feel like I’m in heat._

He glanced up, and Mabel had nodded solemnly, a slight grin peeking out. Her chair was behind where both of her parents were sitting, and Dipper could see as she lifted her nightdress a fraction, revealing the fabric-free pinkness underneath. Being at home, he hadn’t had a chance to enjoy said delights in several days due to caution around the parents, but the letter appeared to be promising as much as they could possibly get away with.

Dipper cleared his throat and crossed his sleep-pant clad legs as he composed the line.

“But mostly I want you with me, since I feel like we’re complete!”

Their mom let out a little “Awww!” of delight at the sappy sentimentality Dipper had used in replacement for an explicit promise of sex. Their mom spoke up again as Dipper’s eyes scanned down the rest of the sheet of paper.

“So, honey, is that it? Is there anything else?”

_So fuck me Dipper, fuck me please, I want to feel your cock_

_Inside of me, as I gasp, and back and forth I rock._

_I’ve been a naughty girl this year: you helped me be the worst,_

_I’ll rock your world tonight, I swear, but there’s something we must do first:_

_Lay back, unzip, and let me taste you: it’s the least we’ll do tonight,_

_How naughty can our incest be, when our fucking feels this right?_

“Nope!” he almost shouted after a long pause, and Mabel choked off a cough of laughter. He could feel the thin cotton of the sleep pants tighten over his sudden and desperate erection.

“Just the closing line: Love and kisses-” _and much, much more,_ he read silently, “-Mabel.”

His eyes caught the last line.

“Oh, and this bit: P.S. Why are you still reading? I’m literally probably on top of you right now, so put down the letter Dip.”

Their father cocked an eyebrow. “Now what do you mean by that, Mabes?”

Mabel was already running over, and almost tackled Dipper in a bear hug. “I just meant on top of him giving him awkward sibling hugs!” Their father chuckled, rubbing his neck and muttering “God, I sure don’t miss those anymore.” Dipper could feel as Mabel settled against him, her dress-covered legs straddling his legs as her thigh bumped against his rock-hard cock.

In the moments before she released from the hug, he heard her breathy hot words in his ear: _“Those were all promises, Dip. And I intend for you to read the letter properly when we’re alone tonight.”_ Dipper just nodded, chuckling, as Mabel broke the hug and went back to sit on the chair.

A slight tear in her eye, their mother clasped her hands together with a happy smile. “You two are just the most well-behaved kids ever.” Her smile grew, and she winked at them in a conspiratorial tone. “I think your father and I can guess which of Santa’s lists you twins were on!”

Dipper locked eyes with Mabel, grinning as they both laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Crimsonwatchtower: Mabel writes a sweet poem for Dipper to go along with her Christmas gifts. She writes a second smutty one to vent her hidden feelings for Dipper, but accidentally puts that in his Christmas card instead. When Dipper opens it in front of the family he has to make up something new on the spot.


	3. Return to Sender

“Oh Dipper, you, uh, you shouldn’t have!” Their mom smiled awkwardly, holding up a string of bright translucent pink plastic balls adorning a silicone-rubber string. Dipper felt his stomach drop, and Mabel’s frantic eyes met his in equal parts surprise and alarm.

She turned over the newly-opened gift, turning it over in her hands as she frowned in puzzlement. “Honey, I, um, I like it, but what _is_ it, exactly?” Dipper was already bounding over, mind racing, until he awkwardly grabbed the offending gift, threading a few of the smallest plastic nodes through a silicone loop near the bottom.

“Uh, it’s a necklace!” Dipper gave her a grin, displaying the small and colorful loop of anal beads as he thanked the gods above that his parents were shut-ins when it came to anything sex-related. He swallowed, his collar of his t-shirt suddenly feeling constricting and tight. Dipper tried to pad out his voice with as much of an apologetic tone as he could muster, to drown out the notes of stark fear and guilt that threatened to creep up and draw attention.

“Unfortunately, I, uh, I think I got the labels mixed up.” That much was truth; he had been falling asleep when he had been labelling gifts, and in his distraction he must have not only mislabeled some gifts, but his eyes caught on the distinct lack of a blue-and-white-striped bow stuck to the opened present, a bow that would indicate a gift that _in no way_ should be opened in front of any parents whatsoever.

He shrugged, a rueful and honest grin temporarily appearing as the hilarity of the situation quenched some of the inferno of his sudden attack of anxiety. His eyes glanced over to his sister. “That necklace was actually originally for Mabel.”

As he watched, Mabel looked like she had been set on fire, and a flush rose up her chest and neck until it pricked the very tips of her ears and shaded everything below her mop of hair. She had recognized what the ‘necklace’ was almost right away, and now her voice squeaked out a brief “Oh wow, Dipper, it’s…it’s so, um, _pretty.”_

Their mom let out a little laugh, smiling as she handed over the rubbery string. “Well, you do love flashy and silly jewelry, Mabel dear. You’ll make far better use of it than I would.” Mabel took the proffered gift, careful to touch it by as little surface area as possible and making a mental note to thoroughly sterilize it later before it had any use. Setting it back in her pile of gifts, concealing it almost immediately under the edge of a beading kit and a ball of yarn, she looked over to Dipper and tried to keep her voice level rather than furious.

“So, brobro, didja mess up any _other_ labels we should know about?”

He looked back at the pile of gifts; no blue-and-white bows were to be found, and he knew the remaining few presents adorned with such bows were in his closet. Mabel had given him the wrapped presents, but Dipper’s meticulousness had meant he couldn’t just leave them unlabeled, and instead he had brought them down with the other gifts, to receive the label and the bow.

Wracking his brain from the sleep-addled period, he couldn’t recall if the not-for-parental-eyes presents all had the bow or not, but in a quirk of memory he could at least recall the number of items in the pile.

“Um, lemme check. One second while I find my, uh, list!” He turned and almost ran to his closet, pulling aside a pair of shoeboxes to reveal the illicit prize behind them.

_One-two-three-four-five-six…with the beads mom opened, that makes seven._

_So where’s the eighth box?_

He returned, sheepish grin on his face and a prayer in his heart that his blanched expression wouldn’t be too notable.

“Afraid I missed one,” he said as casually as he could manage. Mabel’s glare could cut steel, but she gave their parents a smile and a shrug of her own.

“I guess we’ll find it when we find it,” she said, dreading what might be uncovered in the sea of unopened presents.

 

* * *

 

Dipper was sure he was going to have a heart failure. He’d taken a second peek when he’d excused himself to use the bathroom, and did a tally of the shapes of the gifts in his closet he recognized. Not counting the “necklace,” everything was accounted for. That meant Mabel’s gift was the lurking threat they had yet to uncover.

He murmured as much to Mabel, and she’d given him another death glare. Dipper had sighed in regret, offering as much of an apology as he could whisper without arousing parental suspicion. Knowing Mabel, it was probably some skimpy lingerie or flavored body spray; either would be hard to explain to their parents, but at least if it was the latter he could see her concocting a story about how this stuff was better for prank drawings on sleeping faces or something.

He noticed as Mabel stiffened beside him as their father pulled up a small, hand-sized box, and began to unwrap it.

_It’s just a small box, smaller than you could probably fit a full matching lingerie set. Mabel’s not the type to just do panties alone, so eliminating that means it’s probably just a bottle of body-huh?_

Their dad had instead pulled out something small and black. Squinting, he murmured “What’s this? Looks like a little electronic thingy for the television or something like that.” Dipper saw him reaching for a button, and was worried he was about to see it buzz and reveal itself to even their blessedly-oblivious parents.

Instead, the furrow on his dad’s head increased. “Huh, that’s odd. Nothing.” Their mother wandered over and took a look, and pointed to the device. “Oh, see there? Looks like it might be a remote for the TV. Try changing it to Channel Two, see if that helps anything; Channel One is always just static anyhow.”

There was a quiet clicking of a button from the device, and another click as he pointed it at the TV and tried again. The TV didn’t react.

But Mabel did.

Dipper saw her shiver slightly, a little quiet gasp that only he could hear as she leaned slightly forward and braced herself against the floor with a hand. Her eyes were scrunched shut, and only now did Dipper realize how much she had been concentrating to try and avoid revealing her sudden distraction.

In a murmur, he leaned over and said “Mabes, is that what I think it is?”

Her voice was clenched shut, and she just murmured back a breathy “Mhm.”

“Did you want me to try and get it back from him?”

The murmur became more insistent. _“Mhm!”_

He nodded, both grinning a little and trying to be as sympathetic to his sister’s plight as he could. He could also feel himself starting to stiffen, and knew after a few more minutes he’d definitely have a visible erection. He had to move fast.

Stepping over, he held out his hand. “Hey dad, Mabes said this was supposed to be a gift for my room, for the little TV I’ve got up their on the end of my dresser. I can take that now if-”

“No!” His tone was determined, the same stubbornness Dipper and Mabel had inherited. “I’m gonna troubleshoot this damn thing first; last thing you want is a busted gift, right?”

Dipper nodded, helpless as he watched his father mutter in frustration “Fine, let’s see if these last two channels do anything.” He began clicking back and forth, eyes fixed on the blank static of the TV, and did his best to interject himself between their father and his twin. He could hear her making little groans and whimpers, as quiet as she could, and out of the corner of his eye he could see her rocking back and forth, still kneeling on the floor, her night-dress draped over her form and the sparkling material shimmering as she shivered.

Sitting back in annoyed disgust, their father tossed the remote onto the end table next to him. “Damn thing is busted. Little light goes on on the remote, but nothing happens.” Dipper forced himself to not snort out giggling, and instead went to grab it.

“You know, honey, it might be that the batteries are dead. Don’t you have that big six-volt battery sitting in your workspace in your study? Maybe it needs a bit more juice is all,” their mom said, entering back in from where she was warming up breakfast.

Mabel’s eyes went wide as saucers, and shot to Dipper even as he interjected and grabbed the remote before further harm could be done. “Heh, that won’t be necessary!” he said, stumbling to his feet. “Mabes and I can go up and make sure it works right now, as a matter of fact. It’s probably just on a different frequency or something.”

His dad stared at him for a moment, and then shrugged and reached for the nearest unwrapped gift in his pile. Mabel unsteadily got to her feet as Dipper turned of the remote and offered a hand to help her up. Her palm was sweaty, and Dipper couldn’t help but grin as he murmured into her ear “Grab your ‘necklace’ before we go back, okay?”

His twin’s expression shifted from shock to sultry agreement, and she went back and grabbed her new ball of yarn, using that to hide the string of beads behind it as she followed Dipper up to his room.

As they entered his room, the ball of yarn was forgotten, and Mabel practically tackled Dipper, making pleading and whimpering noises as she mashed her lips to his, her hands roaming up under his t-shirt and under the waistband of his sleep shorts.

Chuckling, Dipper broke the kiss, gently grabbing her hands. “Later, Mabes, later,” he said, ignoring the pouty lip and groan of need she made.

He nodded his head towards the beads. “Go ahead and get those situated and meet me out in the living room, okay? I think we can turn around this rocky start to a morning, and I can make amends for my mistakes.”

Her eyes narrowed but her smile was mischievous as she spun the loop of silicone around on a finger. “You better, bub,” she said as he closed the door behind him and re-entered the living room.

A few minutes later Mabel joined him. Her smile was fixed, and he noticed her pace faltered once or twice as her ips shifted and moved. Their mother was still inside finishing up preparation on the Christmas ham, and their father was excitedly cooing over a football-shaped desk lamp emblazoned with the colors of his favorite team.

Dipper used the scrutiny-free moment to gently slide a hand quickly under the hem of Mabel’s night-dress, where she knelt next to where he saw cross-legged. She turned her head slightly to watch him, but avoided making a sudden movement or noise that might uncover them. Dipper felt along the smooth, bare flesh of her thigh, the curve of her ass, until he reached the cleft and could feel the ring, and only the ring, protruding free.

He gave her a grin, and with a smooth, steady increase of pressure, pulled gently until the first bead popped free of the ring of muscle that had trapped it.

Mabel shook, biting her lip and leaning forward again to brace herself. She glanced back at him, mouth opened slightly to murmur something at him when Dipper pulled the second bead free.

His sister let out a low whimper, quiet enough that their dad wasn’t distracted from his adoration of the lamp. Dipper, grinning, put a finger to his lips, and Mabel just narrowed her eyes and pouted.

Then her eyes widened as he pulled the remote from his shorts pocket, and as he pulled the next bead free, he activated the remote on the lowest intensity setting.

Mabel’s hand shot to her mouth, muffling her moaning gasp of surprise. They both froze as their father spoke up, his eyes still fixed on the instruction manual for assembling the resin pieces of the lamp. “Mabes? What’s up?”

Dipper slowly withdrew his hand from under the dress, pulling it to outside of the underneath of the fabric. Mabel took a steadying breath, and after a moment said “I, uh, I just remembered someone who I almost forgot to get a gift for.” As she lied, her eyes met with Dipper’s, and travelled down to the crotch of his slowly-tenting shorts before back up to his face.

Their dad looked up at this, noticing her flushed face as she smiled back at him. Apparently mistaking it for a flush of embarrassment or worry, his smile crinkled. “Aw honey, don’t worry about it. Besides, I know you’ll think of the perfect gift; after all, you love to give homemade gifts and I’d bet that whatever you end up doing will be a big hit.”

Dipper had to cough to cover the snort of amusement, but they were both saved by the voice of their mom: “Dipper? Mabel? Can you give me a hand plating the ham here, please?”

Dipper got to his feet, but when he went to offer Mabel a hand up, she just looked at him, and then over to their father, who was busy again assembling his new toy and effectively oblivious to everyone and everything else. Her voice was low but filled with more than a little annoyance.

“Uh, Dip? I kind-of can’t get up right now as a result of _something_ poking out…”

“Your dress should cover it fine.” He grinned. “Just don’t bend over in front of anyone and you should be good.”

Her glare was cut short by another call for help from their mom, and she reluctantly got to her feet, checking behind her several times. Sure enough, the angle and loose, flowing fabric meant that nothing was visible. Still, Mabel’s pace was tight with little steps as Dipper followed her into the kitchen.

There, their mom had the start of a hearty meal setting up; they helped her transfer the meat, Dipper quickly ducking down to grab a dropped fork so Mabel could remain upright.

“Alright, kids, I just need to finish the green bean casserole, so don’t fill up on candy in the next fifteen minutes. Got it?” They nodded and filed out, and as soon as they were around the corner Dipper had a hand sliding up under the dress again, this time almost lifting it high enough to reveal her hairless mound to the empty hallway. He flicked the remote to the second setting, and gently but firmly removed the next bead.

Mabel shook, her arms on his shoulders for support as she gasped. Her knees shivered and pressed together, and she muffled a moan into her brother’s shoulder as he grinned and kissed her head. Emboldened, he ducked a finger from the remote-holding hand under her chin, turning her burning face towards his.

“Hey Mabel?”

“Yeah?” came her reply, still quivering with an afterglow of arousal.

“I love you.” He leaned forward, meeting her mouth in a full kiss that she greedily returned, wrapping one leg up around his as she encircled him with her arms and pulled him into the kiss.

Then he turned the remote to setting three as he withdrew the penultimate bead.

His twin’s reaction was immediate, as she squealed and panted into his mouth, the noise muffled even as she pulled him close. As she broke the kiss, panting heavily, one of her hands dove into his shorts, massaging the mostly-hard cock within as she growled teasingly at him, then broke off into a gasping series of shivers and panted breaths.

“Kids! Brunchtime!”

The two sibling broke apart, quickly arranging themselves as Dipper pulled up his shorts to hide his boner while Mabel smoothed down her dress and hair as best as she could, taking a few deep breaths as Dipper keyed the remote down to the low setting rather than turn it off.

She looked at him with a wry grin as he did so, and said “You couldn’t spare me while we’re at dinner at least, Dip?”

He grinned and shook his head. “Nah, I’m having too much fun.” He noticed her looking again to check behind her, and Dipper could only imagine what it would feel like to have most of the length hanging from her ass, the weight tugging and teasing on the last bead as it sat snugly inside the ring of muscle. “You’re good; you still can’t see it.”

That wasn’t strictly true, as Dipper could make out a slight bulge where the silicone met the shimmery fabric of the dress, but with the way the folds pleated around that area it would be invisible for anyone not specifically looking for something amiss.

The two made their way to the dinner table, taking their traditional spots on one side. Dipper scooted his chair as close to Mabel’s as he dared, giving her a smile as their dad came in carrying the platter of pork aloft.

Their mom followed a moment after, and immediately noticed Mabel’s face. “Aw sweetie, have you been crying?” Dipper felt a moment of uncertainty, until she continued, saying “You know, you haven’t cried about Christmas and being happy in years.” Her face welled up as she looked at her daughter. “And just so you remember, it’s always okay to cry, sweetie, no matter what.”

Mabel nodded, her face a carefully-tailored smile. Their parents sat, and their mom turned to Dipper. “Dipper, would you mind leading us in grace?”

Mabel had already ducked her head, but Dipper put on as genial of a smile as he could muster. “I’d love to, but I think it should be Mabel’s turn since I did grace at Thanksgiving.” His sister looked up as their mom agreed, and she began.

She got most of the way through before Dipper began to interrupt.

He had slowly crept his hand along the blind spot, to the back of Mabel’s chair where the dress had pooled. She had noticed his movement, shooting him a look but not breaking stride in the blessing. Her composure was remarkably intact, until Dipper pulled free the last of the beads and cranked the remote from the minimum setting to the maximum one.

“-and with all those thanks said, bless oh Lord for the _se giFTS-”_ Her rising note was met with her scrunching up her face, head ducked over her plate as she murmured “ _oh god oh god oh god,”_ panting heavily and face flushing again as the latest and largest of the orgasms hit.

Their mom and dad were both staring with uncertainty as Mabel shuddered again. Dipper had removed his hand from under the dress, but had instead begun to toy with the settings on the remote, spinning it from minimum to maximum, and dancing it between settings as he randomly ramped it up and down.

He stopped after a few seconds, but Mabel was still squeezed up tight, body convulsing with wracking orgasms as she whimpered aloud.

There was a tark silence, marked only by the noises she made, and then Dipper heard another unexpected noise.

His parents were crying too.

“Oh my dear Lord, sweetie, I didn’t know you loved Christmas this much! It’s okay to cry, it’s okay: today is a joyous day, so it’s okay to cry.” She had gotten up and stepped over to hug her daughter; Mabel’s sobs of pleasure abruptly stilled, presumably from the whiplash of awkwardness. Dipper was doing his best to fight a laugh, eyes wide as he bit his thumb and tried to look like he was ready to cry with joy rather than bust a gut with laughter.

Their mom broke the hug and smiled at her daughter before returning to sit and start eating. Their dad just reached over, patting her hand and giving it a squeeze of affection.

Dipper, eyes still wide with avoiding laughing aloud, was slightly surprised to see Mabel offer him a hug too. As she pulled him close, though, he heard her whisper “I want to fuck you for the two weeks solid, no breaks. Laugh at me again, though, and that will be no sex for the next two months. Got it?”

She pulled back slightly, looking him in the eyes as he smiled but nodded solemnly. Just before they broke the hug, she made a single request.

“Also, could you turn off that damn remote for a minute and let me rest?”

Dipper nodded, chuckling, and did so, and the twins turned back to the meal.

For a few hours, at least, in the Pines household, there was peace on earth.

~~And then they started fucking again.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From robertalfredking4: Smutmas prompt: The naughty present that the twins bought each other accidentally go to other people.


	4. Buzzed

Mabel had been so busy getting ready for helping Dipper pack and leave his dorm for the holidays that she had completely forgotten to do her shopping. Dipper was leaning back, taking a break from loading boxes as he chuckled.

“Mabes, we can stop by somewhere on the way out of town, get what you need there. What were you making anyhow?”

Mabel stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and said “My banana bread. If we were heading home it wouldn’t be a problem; short of bananas themselves, mom has great stocks of everything in the cupboards. But since we’re going to the Shack, our Grunkles, well…”

She let the words hang, and Dipper nodded in agreement. Stan and Ford had an approach to cooking and eating that could politely be called “unique” and impolitely called “incredibly inconsistent and borderline illogical.” He had seen Stan cook everything from eggs and toast to something unspeakable that used, as he described it, “A few odds and ends from a Russian fishing buddy who owed me some dough.” The twins had escaped and ordered some pizza, giving a few pity slices to Ford as his years of extradimensional foraging for survival failed him in the face of a bowl of grey almost-stew.

Mabel sighed, and went back to helping Dipper pack the last few boxes. “Well, I suppose getting the supplies won’t take too long.” She glanced at her brother’s mini-fridge. “Hey brobro, do you have any supplies I can steal from there?”

He shrugged. “Knock yourself out,” and took the last set of boxes out towards the dorm elevator. Cracking open the fridge, Mabel rifled through a few almost-empty bags of buns and bread loaf ends, finding nothing of use. She was about to give up in frustration when she found a ziploc baggy in the freezer drawer labeled ‘ _BUTTER_ ’ in a handwriting she didn’t recognize. It looked like it had melted, but someone had poured it into the bag to solidify.

Mabel shrugged. Butter was butter regardless of shape, and this looked like enough to cover the multiple sticks she needed for a large pan of her bread. She pulled out the bag, grabbed Dipper’s last suitcase and his keys, before leaving the dorm and locking the door behind her.

A few minutes later, a key entered the lock, and the door swung open as Dipper’s roommate entered, carrying a stack of boxes in front of his chest. “Hey Dipper, I just wanted to let you know I left-” He stopped as he saw the empty room, and deposited the boxes on his bed. Pulling off the business jacket, he made a beeline for the mini-fridge, checking the freezer drawer and sighing with relief.

“Ah, whew, he found it.” Grinning, he sat back on the bed, pulling out a vape stick and taking a pull as he did. “Man, Dip’s going to have a hell of a holiday.”

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Mabel was wagging a finger under her brother’s nose.

“Nope, mister, you stay in the car! I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Dipper’s forehead creased in confusion. “Mabels, if there’s a lot of stuff to carry, I could help. Why don’t you want me to-” He cut off as she ducked in front of him, wiggling her outstretched fingers and murmuring “Seeeecreeeets…”

Snorting, Dipper shrugged, and Mabel bounced off into the store as he pulled out his phone and began browsing.

She quickly found her supplies for the banana bread, but then came the second half of her trip. The half that was her reason for insisting Dipper stayed out in the car.

It was almost a mantra, as she visited the aisle for alcohol she was finally able to purchase outright rather than “borrow” from their Grunkles, a rainbow of energy drinks, a few trips down the over-the-counter medicines aisle for a few specific boxes, a single item from the cleaning supplies aisle, and finally a packet of food-safe glitter and a bagged set of small, colorful plastic dinosaurs.

On top of that she threw a trio of jugs of “ _Blind Hobo Eggnog,_ ” a particularly strong-flavored brand she’d discovered last year and experimented slightly with.

Everything purchased, she deposited them in the trunk, ignored the questioning looks from her twin, and gunned the motor towards the highway north.

 

* * *

 

“Kids!”

“Grunkles!”

Hugs were exchanged, and Stan and Ford both insisted on helping unload the car. Mabel made a trip by herself to deposit the groceries and bag of butter into the kitchen, placing them out of immediate line-of-sight of the hallway. As they were almost finished taking boxes and suitcases up, Mabel offered to start cooking her banana bread, and encountered no objections.

Of course, as soon as she had a bowl filled with some flour and placed in a conspicuously visible spot, she had retrieved a large plastic bucket from under the sink, and washed it in the sink with vigorous scrubbing.

Theoretically what she was about to put into it would sterilize it of any and all germs, but it didn’t hurt to be safe.

From there, the Pines twin began pouring in cans and snifters of energy drinks and alcohol, carefully measuring out specific amounts and in some cases pouring them through metal scrub-pads she got that were usually used for cleaning pots. Ingredients mixed, tinging the nose, and finally the punch bowl was about half-full. Mabel added the cartons of eggnog, the yellow-beige liquid quickly absorbing and concealing the vibrant pink-red color of the brew she had made in the bowl before.

Lastly, she added a pinch of glitter and a single dinosaur to the concoction. Mixing thoroughly, the glitter likewise disappeared, and the dinosaur slowly sank out of sight. She was trying to be sneaky, but Mabel felt that there were just some elements you just shouldn’t compromise on.

“Nog’s up!” she called, and received a bevvy of appreciative noises from the Grunkles and Dipper. The doorbell rang, and a distant “ _Doods!”_ could be heard as Soos arrived as well. She pulled out glasses to go with the bowl of nog, and returned to finish making the bread. Soon, she was joining the other with carols, laughter, stories, and plenty of drinking from the punchbowl. Mabel was careful to sip in moderation, but as she watched the smell of bananas wafted into the living room, along with a tinge of a skunky aroma.

Soos leaned up from where he was trying to lick his elbow, and sniffed the air like a gopher. “Uh, doods? Is something, like, burning or something?”

Wrinkling her nose, Mabel swore under her breath and sprinted to the kitchen. When she whipped out the bread, though, it looked perfectly fine, and the aroma was heavenly, even if it did have a bit of a foul smell a an afterthought.

She shrugged, and began cutting the loaf into little slices and arranging them on a plate. Bringing the array of bread out next to the bowl, she announced “Snacks are served!”, and brought a slice over for her Grunkles and Dipper to try.

Dipper’s eyes went wide at the smell, and then he frowned slightly.”Mabes, um, did you add anything, uh, _extra_ to this?”

She froze, mind racing as it panicked thinking he was about to ask her about the eggnog. Instead she shook her head. “Nope. Why?”

Dipper just looked at the piece for a long moment before finishing it off. “Oh, uh, no reason. Just thought I tasted something.”

Grunkle Stan, sitting in his recliner, had the corner of his mouth up in a smile. “Here, Mabel honey, let me see a slice of that stuff. Smells great, kiddo.”

He took it, and began smelling it like it w as a fine wine, swirling it around a little bit on the palm of his hand, before murmuring his appreciation.

“Damn fine stuff. Paraguay, if I’m not mistaken. I’d recognize that anywhere.” He grinned, and took a hearty bite out of slice of bread, devouring it in a few bites. Mabel just cocked her head.

“Grunkle Stan, what do you mean? The bananas are from Paraguay?”

He snorted. “How should I know? Nah, it’s the, uh, special ingredient I’m talking about” he said, waggling his fingers in exaggerated air quotes.

Mabel’s uncomprehending face caused him to just lean back. “Listen, kid, trust me on this. If I can tell you spiked the eggnog, I can tell you spiked the bread too.”

Mabel’s grin had quickly faded to a tight-lipped look of alarm as Dipper sputtered, mid-drink, and turned to his sister. She could still see the nogstache on his upper lip and an errant crumb of cake at the corner of his mouth.

“Mabel…” he said, drawing out the word. “What did you put in the eggnog and banana bread?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know! I didn’t put anything in the banana bread other than the stuff you use to make banana bread!” She hoped Dipper wouldn’t notice her omission.

Dipper noticed.

“And the eggnog?” he said, his voice holding an edge of accusation.

She had to come clean. “Uh, it’s actually about fifty percent Mabel Juice.”

Dipper groaned, carefully setting the half-full cup of eggnog down as if it might detonate at any moment. Eyes shut, he said “What version of the Juice?”

“Two.”

Dipper groaned again, this time in a slightly higher pitch, and with a careful finger he nudged the glass away by a further few inches. Mabel’s turned to Grunkle Stan.

“Well, you seem to know what I must have added, Mr. Paraguay!” she said in the most accusing tone she could muster. “What was it?”

Grunkle Stan laughed, slapping his knee, before turning to look at his watch.

“Eh, I figure you guys will find out in about, oh, half an hour or so.

Soos looked up, mouth still full from the six slices of banana bread as he asked in a muffled voice “Find out what?”

 

* * *

 

“So Sheriff, what do you suppose happened?” Deputy Derland lifted up an overturned and empty bowl, the white residue of eggnog still staining the inside. Letting go, the bowl flopped back onto Soos’ stomach as he groaned and rolled around a little while half-conscious. Blubbs was just standing next to the couch and the sleeping occupants on it, chuckling. They’d gotten a noise complaint but it had been a few hours back, and now the house was dead quiet.

Apart from the snoring, and Soos’ delirious mutterings.

Stan Pines came around a corner, chipper and alert, with a huge grin on his face. It grew slightly as he caught sight of the two policemen, and he approached them with wide arms. “Ah, officers! Anything I can help you with?”

Blubbs mentioned the noise complaints, and Stan waved it away with a chuckle. “Ah, there was some cheering, but I got it all settled. Don’t worry about it!” Seeing the two police suitably mollified, he gave them a wink, mentioned something about a bowling appointment, and ducked out of the door before Derland could ask him what, exactly, had just happened.

“You know, we could ask these folks, but they look plum tuckered out after this here party.” He smiled, looking down on Dipper and Mabel, both snoring as they laid on the couch. Both shirts were missing: Dipper’s was in a heap on the far side of the room, while Mabel’s had been stretched over a lampshade and was now helping shed baby-blue light into that corner of the Shack.

Derland grinned. “Aw shucks, they’re so peaceful!” Waddling over to the table, he dipped a pinkie into the half-empty cup of eggnog, tasting it and letting out a whoop. “Whoo-ee, Sheriff, this nog stuff packs a wallop! You suppose we might be able to have an eggnog party back at the office tonight, Sheriff Blubbs?”

Blubbs just chuckled, squeezing the hand of his deputy. “I just imagine we might, Deputy. I just imagine we might.” Derland let out another whoop of excitement, and sprinted out the door to start the car. Blubbs gave them another chuckle and grin as he quietly shut the door behind him as he left.

On the couch, the twins shifted in their sleep, and Dipper’s hand slid up to run along Mabel’s back as her hand stroked the stubbly edge of his jaw. Unbeknownst to either of them, their thoughts at the moment were identical.

_This is probably a dream. But while it lasts, this is a really, really good dream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two prompts inspired this story:  
> 1) Mabel spikes the eggnog at the Mystery Shack Christmas party.  
> 2)I had a thought that mught be fun. Dipper has a stoner college friend that gives him a bunch of cannabutter, mabel accidentslly uses it for holiday banana bread and shares it with dip. Chaos ensues. -totally not Pan


	5. Tug of War

_Dingdingding._

In the middle of an awesome dream involving necromancers and cryptography, a faint noise jostled Dipper’s sleeping mind, nudging it slightly towards wakefulness.

_Dingalingaling._

Dipper groaned, and the dream almost entirely faded. Now it was just a single sad skeleton holding a placard with an Atbash cypher on it; a far cry from the undead codebreaking he’d been performing moments before.

_DINGDINGALINGALINGADINGDINGDING!_

The sound of the bells finally pushed Dipper out of sleep, and into merely resting. The room was still dark, but there was a crack of light coming from under the-

Dipper’s brain skipped a beat in confusion. The light was coming from right in front of him, no matter how he moved his head. He went to go wipe a bit of sleep from his eyes, only to find his arm wasn’t responding.

A pair of muted giggling from somewhere nearby confirmed his suspicions as he tried and failed to move his other arm or either leg more than a half-inch in any direction. He smiled, and started to say something only to feel a soft but insistent pressure against his mouth of something fabric, and an experimental “Mabel?” came out instead as a muffled “Mmfl?”

There was another giggle, and a voice right next to his ear said in a light murmur “So, Dipper, are you ready for something a bit different tonight?”

He nodded, and was rewarded with a different voice, this time one he recognised almost instantly as Mabel’s, in the other ar. “Good. Remember to behave yourself, or you won’t be getting any treats…”

With a bit of gentle movement, the blindfold was removed, and light flared red and then white in  painful brightness before his sight adapted. He leaned his head up to his chin, and began looking around. As he suspected, his arms and legs were bound, with what looked like a puffy satin ribbon. His left arm and leg were held in place by a bright crimson sash, while an identical setup was worked in a rich green held his other side. In the middle and down his chest, the colors criss-crossed, leaving large diamonds of tight ribbon pressed against his otherwise-bare flesh. There was what felt like another ribbon over his mouth, but the angle meant he couldn’t see if it was one color or the other.

Mabel and Pacifica both stood in front of him, each holding a long trailing ribbon coming off of him, and dressed in outfits of ribbon of a matching color. Pacifica, with the green ribbon, had a overwide ribbon that was almost comically large, and it thread up between her legs and over one shoulder, then across her ample breasts like a holiday minimalist toga. He could feel his cock twitch a little appreciatively; surprisingly, they had left it clear when they had wrapped him up, and it was already enjoying the fresh air and nice view afforded to it.

Mabel’s outfit was made of a similar ribbon, but almost looked like a custom swimsuit, with the material looping up over each shoulder, and then weaving tightly around them both to form almost a sort of swimsuit shape. It hugged her luscious curves in a way that finished what Pacifica’s laughably-small outfit had started, and he felt his cock harden as desire began to run through his veins and creep into the corners of his mind.

His twin snickered at this, and both she and Pacifica approached. Dipper realized what they were doing a moment before they made their move, and just had a second to prepare himself as he felt ribbon weaving around his cock as if it was a mayflower pole. They completed four laps, the thinner ribbon making a pleasing chevron pattern as it was wound up his shaft., and the remaining dozen feet of either ribbon had plenty of room to drift back to either girl.

Mabel grinned. “We decided to share our gift this year, one we basically decided to give ourselves; Pacifica won the coin toss, so she gets first dibs.”

Their friend smirked, and pulled the ribbon, angling Dipper’s cock towards her. Approaching, she knelt down, giving the head of his cock a brief lick, and then running a silk-gloved hand over his ribbon-wrapped torso. Dipper could see that while Mabel was wearing nothing more than ribbons and a smile, Pacifica had accessorized with the gloves and some black fine fishnet stockings that ran up her thigh and almost to the edge of her ribbon.

Dipper shivered as she gave his head another gentle kiss and teasing tongue, but his attention was diverted as she turned and straddled him, her as facing him so all he could see were the two pale and wonderfully curved buttocks, a green ribbon snaking between them and up to her shoulder. She leaned forward, scooting her ass backwards towards Dipper’s face, until the thin layer of satin-concealed flesh was just a scant inch or so away from his nose.

As Mabel giggled, Dipper could hear Pacifica’s teasing voice. “Like what you’re seeing, Dip?” He made a muffled noise, nodding his head and straining to press his face against it. Pacifica laughed, saying “Oh, hehe, right, forgot about that,” and she reached down to gently tug the muffler of ribbon off, exposing Dipper’s mouth again.

Before he could say anything, she had also tugged aside her ribbon, revealing her slit already damp, a sticky clear string of her excitement trailing from the ribbon to her pink lips. Dipper swallowed and groaned as he felt her tease the end of his cock again, sucking on the head while the sensation of fingers through the few exposed gaps on the side caused him to shudder with pleasure.

She pushed her ass backwards, and Dipper gladly began to work, his tongue first teasing up and down her slit, as he bobbed his head to place kisses against and around her pussy. Pacifica groaned, rolling her hips even as she began to suck and tease harder, swirling his cockhead with the tip of her tongue and drawing a groan from him.

He could feel his pressure building, even as he could tell from the rocking and whimpering that Pacifica was getting closer and closer to orgasm herself. As he let out another, louder groan, though, he felt an abrupt pressure and let out a little cry of disappointment that Pacifica mirrored as Mabel tugged on her ribbon, dislodging Dipper’s cock from Pacifica’s mouth.

Mabel had just chuckled. “I know my brobro, and if he’s making noises like that, he’s gonna pop before I even get a turn.” She grinned, and took a few sultry steps forward, placing a single finger on Dipper’s moist cockhead.

In a lower voice she murmured “And goodness knows I don’t want to miss out on this.” Pacifica’s breathing slowed slightly, and afkter lingering for a moment she dismounted Dipper and stood to one side, her hand still moving slowly on and under her ribbon.

Mabel leaned against the edge of the bed, one hand gently and leisurely mastrubating Dipper, while the other prepared her outfit. She had a hand pulling the two ribbons apart where they met at her mound, creating a crotchless effect that she held open as she got up on the bed and straddled her brother.

Dipper held his breath, then sighed out as he felt Mabel gently sink a few inches onto him. She couldn’t go much past his sensitive head due to the ribbons, but even that was heavenly enough. Dipper groaned, and Mabel scooted up, releasing him with a soft and wet noise before gently sinking down again, fucking him one or two inches at a time at a slow pace. She was obviously enjoying herself, and began sinking farther and farther onto him, forcing the ribbons down to the base of his shaft.

He felt his own orgasm build and build, but rather than releasing as his breathing increased, it just steadied and intensified. He realized that the ribbons had formed an impromptu cock ring at the base of his penis, holding the blood in an delaying his orgasm by more than he expected the little loops to be capable of when he saw them in stores.

Pacifica had apparently picked up on this, as she came over to kiss Mabel on the mouth, holding the long and deep kiss even as she too straddled Dipper, grinding her pussy back into his ready and waiting face as he began to stir hotspots, aided by the warmup he’d given her earlier and the holding-pattern mastrubation she’d been engaged in earlier.

The girls were panting now, Mabel’s in cute little squeaks and a gradually-increasing-in-pitch cry of “Oh-oh- _oh-OH-OH!”,_ while Pacifica was making animalian grunting noises and moaning every time Dipper temporarily redoubled his speed and intensity on her clit.

FInally, Dipper felt and heard Pacifica as she came, a tight-lipped hum of need as she pressed and held her crotch to his face, rolling her hips and snorting out breaths as her mouth locked with his sister’s. Mabel slowed, shifting the pace from faster fucking to slower hip-rolling. He could feel an incredible massaging sensation as she exercised her kegel training that Grenda had given her ips for, and that was all he needed.

Dipper grunted thrusting his hips upwards as much as he could as he shot jet after jet into his sister. Mabel ad slammed her hips down, wiggling them but not moving them otherwise as he filled her, and he felt her hum of appreciation and little butt-wiggle as the last few drops came out.

Panting, Dipper leaned back, pleasurably exhausted. Pacifica did the same, leaning against his chest while still showering Mabel with little kisses.

Mabel, however, was now focused on remembering to turn off the webcam after they were done.

 

* * *

 

 _3 viewers. Not bad, but then again there are so many channels I’m not surprised._ Mabel had just turned off the livestream; Dipper and Pacifica had both enthusiastically been on the channel before, reassured slightly by the low viewer count.

 _Well, let’s see. Two of those are definitely Candy, and probably Grenda._ She had sent them both the link. Grenda hadn’t mentioned anything one way or another, but Candy had sent Mabel a text afterwards with a variety of emoticon face managing to make a surprising lewd autobiographical short story of her experiences watching it, and the last person.

A notification for _Bookface_ popped up, with Grenda and Marius tagged on some boat in the Bahamas. Mabel chuckled.

 _Well, guess that means two of our amazingly-impressive three viewers were strangers. I hope they had a good time._ She grinned.

_I sure did._

 

* * *

 

They finished almost in unison, both gasping and shuddering on either sides of the computer screen as moans carried through microphones to headphones helped them feel like they were almost touching again. The livestream had primed the pump for both of them and more, and this was their chance for a similar release.

Schmabble leaned backwards onto a pillow, thankful again that she had the foresight to put down a small towel before all these shenanigans began. A quick notification popped up from the other party:

“ **MipMip95:** Hey sis. I gotta hit the sack. Last day tomorrow before you’re in town!”

She nodded to herself, still groaning in frustration that it couldn’t be now.

“ **xSinFreeLiarx:** Yeah, I understand. Love and kisses and more! ;) “

Leaning back as his “ _Online”_ marker blinked red, Schmabble felt another tingle from below, and began idly rubbing again, her eyes drifting aimlessly around the room.

Drifting, that is, until they fell on some extra purple ribbon she had used for wrapping a large gift to a friend. There was a lot of it, plenty for making an outfit, or at least enough to make some sort of minimalist lingerie that would stand up to an hour or so of vigorous activity.

Pulling a length from the spool, she wrapped it around her exposed leg, loving the cool feel of the satin on it and the teasing reminder of what she had just watched. Fixing the image of the events of the stream in her mind, she began to work her sticky lips, imagining that it was _her_ brother there, and that she was riding him until he filled her with his warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From an Anon: How about this one where Mabel and Pacifica catch Dipper off guard (similar to That’s Knot Funny) and experiment in rope/ribbon bondage? (Like in That’s a Wrap or Naughty)


	6. And A Happy New Year

While technically they had family around for the last three days, it hadn’t hit Dipper until he put their names in for the Christmas gift exchange.

“DIpper! Honey, you put your sister and you in the wrong jar! That was the ‘Couple's’ jar,” their mom had said with a smile.

“Oh, right. My bad!” he had replies, palms sweating as he realized what his mistake could have done.

He had taken his mug of spiced mead, sitting on the back porch and watching the reflections of the blinking lights reflected against the mottled and patterned glass of the kitchen window. Partly he watched to try and let his mind go blank, even as the rest of him tried to analyze and figure out a solution to the problem.

The result was a jumble, a veritable train-wreck of internal attempts to find calm and center on nothing at all as he simultaneously tried to guess and determine all likely scenarios of their relationship, and how others might react.

 _Calm_ Maybe they might ship us off to other sides of the country _calm_ or what about just shipping one of us off and leaving the other here with them _calm_ they might send us to live with the Grunkles _calm_ but not together at least if they knew how we felt about each-other _calm_ but oh god what about legality _calm_ could we be looking at jail instead? _Calm_ the only thing worse _calm_ than us alone on other sides _calm_ of the entire country would _calm_ be us across the country _calm_ in prison _calm calm calm-_

 _“_ Whatcha up to, brobro?”

Mabel’s voice snapped him back to reality as she came across him in the midst of thought. She sat next to him on the rocking swing on the porch, as close as possible without being too close if anyone peeked out a window and saw them. More than anything, Dipper wanted to put his arm around her, hug her close, kiss her cheek and see the twinkle of her eyes under those brown bangs he loved so much.

Damn it. Caution to the wind and all, he muttered to his internal warning monologue, and he reached up and brushed her cheek with his hand, his thumb rubbing along her cheek as he smiled tenderly at her. She looked back in surprise, followed shortly by an equal and appreciative smile, before it quickly shifted to a furrow of concern. Her hand had been on his, caressing it in response, but now it quickly dropped, pulling his hand with hers to drop down into his lap as she released him.

Without turning, Dipper could hear the sliding glass door rumble open, their dad’s voice immediately audible as the conversation and laughter from inside filtered out. He mentioned a brief greeting to the twins, before continuing on his borderline-bragging to his brother, their uncle, and their uncle-in-law as well, about the barbeque he got as an early Christmas gift.

As his voice droned on, Mabel reached over to where his hand had fallen, giving it a little squeeze and smile of encouragement. Dipper smiled and tried to inject honesty into the grin, but it just wasn’t there, and he could see that Mabel could tell. The squeeze tightened, and the intensity of Mabel’s smile dropped a notch, but stills he held his hand, only breaking away when their father and his rapt attendees came away from the barbeque and started to look over at the closed hot tub.

She stood, her hand lingering on his long enough to distinctly tug his hand, before dropping away. His sister gave Dipper a smile, nodding her head in a follow-me gesture as she headed back into the house. He obeyed, leaving their father behind on the porch with some of their guests as the twins went back inside.

Within, the house smelled of roasted and sugar-coated nuts, of cinnamon and spiced meat and most of all of holly and pine. The tree was artificial, as it had been for almost the entire last decade, but their mother had insisted on loading the living room with automatic plug-in air fresheners that loaded the scent of the false tree to such a degree that it threatened to overwhelm even the fresh-baked scents wafting in from the kitchen.

The living room had their grandfather and grandmother from their mom’s side; their grandpa and the Grunkles from their dad’s side were unable to attend this year. Regaling them with a story of the trials and tribulations of a computer programmer was their cousin Cindy, and Dipper followed Mabel down the side of the living room and into a hall adjacent to the kitchen.

Within the kitchen were the remaining aunts, uncles, and their mother, like the star that all the planets rotated around. The evening Christmas Feast was being prepared, a grand undertaking that rivalled only Thanksgiving in scope and fare; Dipper much preferred Christmas, as there was more candy and less stuffing.

Still, though, the thought stung him. For Thanksgiving at least, when their parents had asked what they were thankful for, they had been unable to see the hidden hands under the tablecloth, holding each-other’s hands as the looked at their partner twin and said “I’m thankful for my sibling.”

For Thanksgiving, at least, they had been able to sneak away after dinner with the remaining bottle of champagne when their dad left for his weekly Thursday poker game. They had snuck it to Mabel’s room, and from there to the flat spot on the roof they weren’t supposed to go up on but still did anyways, watching shooting stars overhead.

For Thanksgiving, at least, the chances for privacy were constant, while here, with so many people, they were fleeting and far between. Even as they ducked into the hallway, even as Mabel’s leading hand suddenly became a pair of lips locked on his, it felt hollow.

The kiss was broken, the siblings separated again to a chaste distance when the keywords “to the bathroom” were uttered aloud. The aunt that spoke them passed, and again her hand sought his.

“Dip, it will be okay. One day, we won’t have to do this.”

He closed his eyes, scrunched tight, wishing he could believe her. He tried to avoid hysteria as he replied, well aware of how raw his feelings were on the matter even now.

“Maybe. Hopefully.” His eyes met hers. “But what if we do? What if our life-if _us-”_ he cut off as the aunt returned, passing by them again as she returned to the kitchen. “If _we_ were like this forever because we’re siblings?”

Mabel’s eyes went wide, but she shook her head, her lips in a firm, determined smile. She was always tougher than Dipper when it came to convictions, unwavering, almost never flagging in her beliefs. In a lot of other things,s he would come to DIpper for advice, for support, but when it came to their relationship, Dipper always felt like he was trying to build a castle on quicksand, while his sister saw their love as something built on nothing but solid bedrock.

She grabbed his hand, leading him to the living room, passing their grandparents who had gotten up to join the rest if the family in singing a few traditional songs. Staring up at the bedecked tree, she stood behind him, head on his shoulder as her fingers intertwined with his.

There was a long and lovely time that they stayed like that, as the rest of the family bounced from a punch bowl to a can of homemade peanut brittle, to a jar of freshly-cut fudge that was enjoyed with gummed-shut mouths. Nobody paid the twins any heed, looking for all the world like two siblings simply taking a break from the holiday madness, and just enjoying the beauty of the tree and each-other’s company for a time.

Indeed, that’s exactly what they were doing.

As the first song began and a dozen voices joined in ragged and slightly-drunken unison, his sister spoke in a low voice, turning to him with a loving smile in her eyes:

“Listen, Dip. Someday we’ll have our own place, be with friends and family who support us as us, and have all of the stuff we want, all of the happiness we deserve.” He could feel a knot form in his throat as she squeezed his hand in reassurance. “And to be honest with you? Our life won’t be perfect. There will be things that suck, that hurt us, that are unexpected and painful. But-” and she ran a finger for a fleeting moment along his chin before patting him chastely on the back with that same hand, “-those things will happen anyways. That’s life, and it will always be a storm, whether the waves are ten feet high or a hundred.”

There was a peal of laughter from the kitchen, and excited giggling from the cousins who had assembled to play some sort of card game at the dining room table. His sister pulled on his hand, turning him to face her even as his vision began to blur.

“And when you have doubts, when you start to worry about us and the future, just remember that I’ll always be there by your side, and we’ll face whatever life can throw at us in stride, hand in hand. We’ll brave the storm, ride the waves, bail out whatever water splashes over and sail onwards into the new morning.”

Dipper could tell he was crying a little; not enough that those folks in the dining room would be able to see, but definitely enough that Mabel spotted the silver trickle. She kissed him on the tear trail, and Dipper could see that she had an identical trail on her face he kissed away too, thankful that the kids at the table were oblivious and that the adults were busy with songs and drinks in the other room.

“I love you, Mabel Pines.”

She grinned, and kissed him briefly but with a cinder of passion on his lips.

“I love you too, Dipper Pines,” she said with an edge of a giggle.

She gave his hand a squeeze as the latest song faded from the kitchen. Dipper turned, her hand still held firmly between their bodies, hiding it as being anything other than a chaste hug between siblings rather than a sign of comfort between partners.

Dipper sighed deeply, feeling stress he’d been holding for weeks, months, melt away like fresh snow. His sister’s words had calmed him to a degree that his own personal meditation had been unable to accomplish, and her logic of support was undetailed but carried an underlying current of truth.

No matter what happened, they’d be there for each other. And that was all they really needed, in the end. Every doubt, every worry Dipper had, always faded when he remembered that the trials and troubles they faced ahead would be faced together.

As the voices from the kitchen began again, he could feel his raging mind and heart were finally at peace. Squeezing her hand and giving her a quick and daring kiss on the cheek, Dipper began to sing along, and Mabel joined in with him as the entire Pines family raised their voices in song.

_“Silent night, holy night….”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From an Anon: wreaths you lovely darling!! do you think you could write me something that involves the twins having a hard time hiding their relationship while surrounded with extended family for the holidays? thank you so much in advance!!! <3


	7. Precious

**A week before Christmas…**

“Come on, it’s Bigfoot! With proof! Along with photographic evidence that the Gobblewonker was a fake, translations from the caves surrounding Gravity Falls that detail a demonic presence, and even instructions for beating off gnomes!”

The bookkeeper made a face. “Look, kid, ignoring how that last one sounded, I just can’t make fifteen-hundred just for a single journal, regardless of what’s in it. I can give you seven hundred for it; sound good?”

Dipper felt like his soul was being tugged in half as he made the counteroffer. “A grand.”

The owner sighed. “Fine. But just this once, kid,” he said as he began thumbing out a stack of bills. Dipper reverentially laid the stained and scratched composition-book journal on the counter, and couldn’t help but sigh as he watched it be whisked away to be stuck into a locked drawer somewhere.

The owner caught his gaze of wistfullness. “So, what are you planning on getting with all that then?” he asked, nodding towards the wadded fistfull of money. Dipper grinned.

“A triple-reinforced graphene cable, compatible with most major brands of pneumatic grappling hooks.”

The owner blinked, nonplussed, then shrugged and smiled. “Well, whoever is getting something like that must be worth it, huh?”

Dipper just nodded as he pocketed the money and stared off out the shop window to downtown Gravity Falls.

“Yeah, she sure is…”

 

* * *

 

**Two weeks before Christmas…**

“You want to pawn off a _what?”_ The biker stared incredulously over the desk at the girl in the sweater, as she gestured again in his general direction with the device. He kept wanting to duck, getting the vague feeling that an improbably large amount of energy was stored in such a small handheld tool.

“I _said,”_ Mabel repeated, with more than a little annoyance in her voice, “that this is a Stirling and Sons Triple-Climber Automatic Pneumatic Handheld Grappling Pistol, that it’s in like-new condition, and that it’s well worth a thousand bucks.”

The biker chuckled, trying not to let his spark of sudden worry show as he ducked his head to one side to avoid being directly in the pass of the grappling hook gun. “Listen, missie, I can give you maybe five hundred tops for it. How does that sound.”

Mabel’s mind flicked back to the price in her mind, for the item on the custom-order marketplace, and the four-figure sum she’d been quoted. “No can do. A thousand.”

The biker sighed. “Six-fifty; best offer you’ll get all day.”

She shook her head. “Nope. One thousand.”

“Eight hundred, final offer.”

Mabel’s solid stare caused him to chuckle again, this time with noticeably more nervousness than before. “Little miss, I don’t think you quite know how haggling works. You’re supposed to change your mind and meet at a fair price.”

THe Pines girl didn’t budge a muscle, but she did smirk a little and say in an even voice “Well, a thousand is a fair price for a piece of equipment that’s three thousand new, and in any case you’re the one changing your mind on your price, not me.”

There was a prolonged moment as both parties weighed the other.

The biker broke first, sighing and looking away for a moment as he rubbed his neck. He knew he’d been beaten; this was hardly the first time he’d been outmatched, and he could tell that there was no way he’d be able to turn down such a unique find, and also no chance he’d be able to get her to budge within the decade.

As he started counting out the money after putting the grappling hook on top of the pile of pistols and knives in the counter, he asked conversationally “So what is a little lady like you planning on doing with all this?”

Her mind raced back to the online creator’s website, of the beautiful leatherwork they did, of the back-and-forth discussion they’d had to get a quote, and of her sticker shock and reluctant acceptance of the hefty price tag she’d been quoted for the beautiful blue star-and-constellation-inlaid leather journal cover.

“A gift for a good friend.”

The biker nodded, and asked no more.

 

* * *

 

**Christmas Day…**

It was supposed to be a day of surprises, and both twins had eagerly awaited to see what their sibling would think of the unbeatable gift they had planned. They had both opened their gifts, and while they did have stars in their eyes, they were intermingled with tears of confused joy and happy frustration.

“But I sold my journal so you could get that cord you’d wanted for your grappling hook gun!”

“Well I sold the grappling hook to get you the cover from the designer you’d freaked out about last year.”

They hugged each other, chuckling and groaning as they clenched the gifts from each-other. The gifts were _perfect,_ no denying it, and despite neither of them being able to actually use their new treasures, they were almost content enough to just know their twin knew them so well and cared enough about them to think of such a thoughtful present.

Then there was a tap on their shoulder as Grunkle Stan nudged them both with two last wrapped gifts.

“Here, kiddos. Think you might be able to use these right about now,” he said, smiling as he handed out the two packages. Grunkle Ford sat forward, intrigued and confused; he had helped his brother wrap all of the gifts last weekend, everything in the white-and-red-striped paper. Yet these gifts were in a black paper lined with squiggles of Christmas lights instead, and his eyes narrowed as he watched.

The younger Pines twins dried their tears as they pulled off wrapping paper, only to find-

“My journal!”

“My grappling hook!”

His face still incredulous, Dipper turned to the older man. “Grunkle Stan, how did you know?” Behind Stan, Ford rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest.

 _Oh,_ this _ought to be good,_ he thought to himself with a bit of a huff.

Stan just snorted dismissively as he caught sight of his brother’s disapproving glare. “Soon as you two were moping about, I knew something was up. Asked around town a bit, and I just-

**Three days ago…**

Grunkle Stan towered over the biker, despite being two feet shorter than the hulking man. A finger spun a crowbar as easily as someone else might twirl a pencil, but this crowbar had a menacing array of scratches and colorful smears that indicated a colorful history, possibly as far as a self defense against extradimensional horrors.

“And so, again I remind you, that I am quickly running out of patience. Where. Is. It?”

The owner swallowed, weighing his options again, and knowing for the second time in as many weeks that he had been beaten. The first time, with the girl, it had felt like trying to duel someone who refused to pick up a weapon.

This time it felt like duelling someone while every instinct in your body screamed that you were facing someone who had trained for decades longer than you had, poisoned their blade, and carried a loaded pistol just in case.

Eyeing the heavy weight in Stan’s coat pocket, the biker realized that last part of the duelling metaphor might not be that much of a metaphor after all. There was a pointed finger, followed shortly thereafter by a tinkling of glass. The flutter of a stack of bills left on the glass that remained unbroken was a welcome surprise, even if the stack was a third of the size it should have been.

**Christmas day…**

“-made a few purchases-”

**Three days ago…**

A light can be seen in a darkened office. The hooting of an owl and occasional passing car are still not loud enough to drown out the noise of rustling boxes and shuffling papers. There is a gentle metal set of clicks as lockpicks slide into a latch with practiced ease, then the smack of a desk drawer sliding out to hit into a palmed glove. Stan’s voice can be heard with a muttered “Eureka!”, and the sound of something papery being stuffed into a bag.

A set of footprints with too-long of feet and too-few toes led into the nearby woods, and leading to a spike in both Mystery Shack customers as well as tour offers for the amateur cryptozoologist. When the day’s accounts and donation envelopes had been tallied, including the single large lump sum stuffed into one of the smaller envelopes, he almost ended up making back the value of the misplaced journal.

**Christmas Day:**

-and here we are.”

Grunkle Stan avoided the disbelieving look from his brother, glowering in his easy chair, but did have the decency to swallow in embarrassment when his gaze drifted meaningfully over to the two wooden footprint-makers covered in snowy mud in the corner by the hat stand. Stan scooped the twins onto his shoulders.

Mabel laughed as she cried out the line, echoing through the cramped and otherwise-empty Mystery Shack:

“Merry Christmas, one and all!”

Outside, peeking in through an unfrosted edge of the otherwise-opaque window, a shaggy and hulking shape smiles at the happy faces inside. With feet that seemed much too long and with far too few toes, the creature stomped off into the underbrush, and vanished from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from an Anon: gift of the magi with mabel and dipper, 3rd person’s gifts to them are their traded for possessions, because they were such obvious dorks


	8. Just a Taste

“Whoa, so you’re saying it’s _not_ acidic?”

Mabel beamed while Dipper nodded excitedly. Stepping out off of the porch of the Mystery Shack, their brother from another dimensional mother, Mason, tentatively stepped out into the gentle snowfall, and with a wince caught a snowflake on his tongue.

After a second, his face un-scrunched, and he turned back to them with a beaming smile. “Hey Cassie! You gotta try this; it doesn’t hurt at all!”

Stepping off from where she was trying to force herself to be casual, Mason’s sister Cassie gingerly followed her brother out into the snow. Dipper could see as she made the same sorts of careful glances and unspoken analysis he knew he himself made when confronting a potential new danger.

Mabel had already sprinted out from where she had been quivering with excitement in the doorway, and tackled Mason into one of the foot-deep snowbanks. Laughing and giggling, she began to make a snow angel, with her doppleganger joining in a moment later after seeing her make the first one.

The revelation had come with their monthly postcard exchange. Their Grunkle Ford and his alternate-dimension counterpart, Grauntie Juliet, had grudgingly allowed the two sets of twins to exchange notes on a strictly-controlled basis. The latest set had a picture of a snowman, resulting in the Grauntie being bombarded with enough questions that she relented and a pair of walkie-talkies and a steady connection was established for communication.

Cassie and Mason had been in disbelief. In their dimension, universe K45[&]rs, snow was mildly acidic; nothing as life-threatening as the skin-melting mental pictures that immediately popped into Dipper and Mabel’s minds, but certainly nothing to go out into unless absolutely necessary. In dimension K45[&]rs, snowflakes on a tongue had an unpleasant burning tingly feel and sour taste, while making a snow angel would result in a nasty rash a few hours later.

The two twins from that dimension had thought it exceedingly unfair, until Dipper and Mabel told them about their own problem of global warming. The two sets of twins had come to a rough agreement that both universes had their drawbacks, and the conversation had moved on.

Moved on for Mabel and Mason, at least. Dipper and Cassie, however, had other plans, plans discussed later that night after their respective siblings had gone to bed. More importantly, after their Grunkles and Graunties had gone to bed as well.

Depending on the exact specifics they’d been unable to calculate and account for, the two Pines teens figured their plan had bought them around thirteen hours of extra time.

That, or set off a chain reaction of events that would lead to them being arrested by intergalactic police in about thirteen hours. Either way, they had thirteen hours before the fun ended one way or another: Grunkle Ford and Grauntie Juliet had connected their portal to a mutual dimensional target, the aperture enlarged enough to the point of actual travel versus just moving the postcards and radio signals they’d been reduced to before.

Mason and his sister had run through after picking the lock to Juliet’s lab, running through the portal, avoiding the swarm of armed human security guards near the base of the one portal as they snuck across the bunker floor and through the portal set up on the opposite wall.

Cassie had been privately relieved at what had been distracting the guards from their posts, as they clustered around the Grunkle, Grauntie, and a pair of labcoat-wearing scientists: they were all staring at or poring over a massive, hieroglyph-encrusted sarcophagus.

From what she had remembered of the complex set of figures, references, and calculations she had made with Dipper, they would have been in even more existential trouble if the object of attention had been a hieroglyph-covered pedestal instead of a sarcophagus.

They had made it through, greeted by hugs and kisses from their counterparts, before excitedly being ushered to the door to witness the miracle of harmless snow firsthand.

Cassie finally managed to catch a snowflake on her tongue, giggling a little as it dissolved into a drip of water.

Smiling back at her paradimensional siblings, she smiled. “I always wanted to know what snow tasted like.”

The other two twins giggled as she rolled her eyes when Mason complained. “I told you what it tasted like in our dimension! Not my fault you didn’t want to find out for yourself!”

She just smiled. “Yeah, well, now I know, broseph.”

 

* * *

 

Mabel staggered up the steps with the last box from her stack, toddling her way into the bathroom and dodging around Mason again.

“Mabel? Need a hand?” he asked for the third time, and she just shook her head.

“The surprise isn’t _ready_ yet.”

He crossed his hands over his chest as she re-emerged from the bathroom.

“Mabel Pines, I know you probably better than anyone else including your own brother.” His eyes shot to the door. “I know you borrowed your Grunkle’s hotplate in there, and his biggest soup pot as well. I know you went up here claiming you were making Mabel Juice, too.” As he spoke, he tipped off counting the points on his fingers.

His eyes twinkled. “I also know that we exchanged enough notes to know our Juice recipes are near-identical, and absolutely nothing in it requires _melting_ of-” he brought up a white speck in his hand, “-white chocolate decorating chips.”

Mabel met his gaze steadily for a long minute before sighing. “Might as well let you in, since it should be about ready anyhow.” She didn’t seem as disappointed as Mason had expected, and in fact seemed slightly excited by her secret falling apart.

The door opened and shut behind him, and immediately he was hit by the distinct and delicious sweet smell of melted candy. Looking into the pot, he could make out a distinct warm mass, not hot enough to be steaming, but definitely warm enough it was still viscous. The white candy had a red swirl through it, and Mabel nodded towards a pair of empty bottles.

“Peppermint oil, and food coloring. Figured I should make it Christmas-y, you know?” Mason just nodded, perplexed.

Then the clues clicked together as she stepped a foot onto the edge of the toilet next to an empty tub, the curtain drawn backwards. As she reached over and turned the hotplate to “ _Low,”_ she spoke.

“I’ve always had this dream, you know? Almost as long as I can remember, and definitely for as long as I can remember having sexy thoughts.”

She nudged the shoes and socks she had removed to one side, unbuttoning pants and sliding them down her ample legs.

Mason smiled appreciatively, watching as she pulled her snow-speckled sweater off, revealing the colorful animal-cartoon design of her bra and panty.

“And the thing is, Dipper knows about this dream. He’s super-supportive of it and me, but it’s just, well, this is too much, even for him. Even with his sweet-tooth.”

The bra and panty were removed. She turned off the hotplate, setting a fabric cooking pad onto the closed seat of the toilet as she stood nude in the bathtub. Then Mabel grabbed a ladle she had sitting next to the pot, and dipped it into the warm chocolate. Letting a thin drizzle of his cascade over her breasts, she shivered and gave Mason a little smile.

“So, brobro, think you want to try a little taste of Candycane Mabel?”

The words had barely left her lips when he had crossed the distance, meeting her mouth for a hungry kiss that she eagerly returned. Then his sweet tooth and the delicious smell wafting off of her body hit, and he ducked his head down, following the drizzle of warm chocolate down with his tongue, loving the tingling taste of the peppermint as he could only imagine how that made her skin feel.

He licked downwards, enveloping her nipple in his mouth as she shivered and let out a little moan. The fan in the bathroom was on full-tilt, mostly to hide the smell of the chocolate cookery, so Mason knew there would be little chance anyone else could have heard her even if anyone else was actually trying to listen.

Her ladle dipped back in as he gently held her leg to trace his kisses and licks and nibbles down the side of her chest, following the curve of the stream of chocolate. The new ladleful was gently teased down the other side of her body, and he could smell a fresh wave of the candy scent as she groaned and writhed from the heat of the chocolate drips.

It was almost too hot, he felt as a rivulet ran over his thumb. He held the thumb up to her mouth so she could suck it off, giving him a smile as he ran his tongue up her hip to catch the descending line of red-white chocolate. Continuing the lick all the way back up to her shoulder and the nape of her neck, he left little sugary kisses at the edge of her neck and jaw.

“While I knew Dipper liked sweets, I knew nobody else would be up for quite _this_ much candy,” she murmured as she met his mouth in a kiss. Mason licked his lips as the kiss was broken, loving the flavor contrast of her strawberry lip balm as she continued. “Well, _almost_ nobody else” she said with a grin. “When Dipper told me about the plan he and Cassie hatched, I figured this would be my best chance to tick this one off of the bucket list. I-”

She paused, as Mason intercepted her hand, taking the newest ladle of nearly-steaming chocolate from her, and instead pulling her towards him with his other hand wrapped around her waist. He let a trickle fall, directly onto her erect nipple, watching as she shuddered and moaned as the candy spilled over the points and into little webs of cooling chocolate down the front of her chest. He repeated the drizzle onto the other nipple, following it almost immediately with a loving mouth and tongue cleaning the dirtied breast, and then moving to clean up the other side as well.

“So what do you-what do you think of-of Candycane M-mabel?” she asked, her voice stuttering with pleasure as his tongue danced across her nipples and his hands explored her body.

Kneeling into the tub, ignoring the colorful swirls of chocolate staining the knees of his jeans, Mason’s hands reached up to either side of her hips, gently pulling her towards him. His mouth laid a gently kiss on the top of her mound, before moving kisses downwards, kissing the chocolate off of the streams that had swirled around to the inside of her thighs.

Licking his lips, he looked up at his twin, and said “Every year, Grauntie Juliet asks me what my favorite piece of Christmas candy was.” He grinned. “I think I know my answer for this year.”

With that, he plunged his head forward, his tongue running along her slit as she buried her hands in his hair, whimpering and pleading as her hips twitched against his hungry mouth.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe I’m finally able to put this to good use,” Dipper said as he helped pull the zipper up.

Cassie smiled shyly, then stood and did a little twirl. “So I look alright?”

Dipper swallowed. When Cassie had broached the idea in the first place, he had pulled out a black wetlook bodysuit that he had once bought for Mabel. The seller vastly overstated the size of said article of lingerie, and as a result Mabel was barely able to fit into half of it. She had thanked him for the thought, changed into one of her sexy teddies that had fit, and Dipper had forgotten all about it.

Until now.

Now, the mesh cutout panels hugged Cassie’s slim frame perfectly, her small but full breasts filling out the cups without strain, and the shine of the material on the curve of her ass had Dipper appreciating the prescient foresight he had at the time for ordering lingerie that perfectly fit a doppleganger twin he didn’t even know he had.

Noticing the pause, Cassie cleared her throat meaningfully, and Dipper swallowed and nodded. “Uh, wow, yeah, Cass, it looks great.” She smiled, and tossed him the article of clothing on the bed.

“Alright, your turn!”

Dipper had bought a set of sexy undies for himself as well, but they had never seen the light of day after Mabel’s outfit had been put immediately into storage. Now he shimmied into the short-shorts, and Cassie let out an appreciative low whistle as he finally pulled them into place. Dipper felt altogether exposed, but seeing as Cassie was wearing an equivalent cut and proportional volume of clothing covering herself, he didn’t complain.

“So, do I look, uh, commanding enough?”

She giggled, but nodded solemnly. Dipper grinned, striking a pose that caused her to burst into even more giggles, and he pulled out the closet drawer the bodysuit and shorts had been in.

“Let’s see, I think we need-aha!”

Cassie cocked her head, but Dipper just shook a finger. “Nope! This is going to be a surprise…that is, if you’re still up for this?”

His tone was apprehensive, but Cassie’s enthusiastic nods had him relaxed again, and rifling through the drawer. His hand emerged with a black sleep mask, and some black fuzzy handcuffs.

“Okay, first thing’s first…” He clipped her waiting hands into the handcuffs, and then hid her eyes behind the mask. Taking a deep breath, he focused.

_Confident, Dip, confident. You’re a millionaire playboy sex fiend, not a teenager. Millionaire playboy sex fiend. You’ve done this a million times before in your private jerk-off sessions, so now it’s time to put the practice into, um, practice._

Grabbing the chain links holding the handcuffs together, he abruptly pulled them upright, tugging them towards the wall directly next to the bed. Cassie let out a little excited gasp of surprise, but went along, grinning as he pinned her arms up against the wall. He met her open mouth with  hungry kiss, before breaking the kiss. His free hand was cupping the edge of her face, but his head moved lower, leaving a trail of kisses along her jawbone and down her neck until he deposited a single kiss between her breasts.

Groaning, she twitched her hips towards him, and his hand travelled south, massaging a breast and gently teasing a nipple with a thumb under the reflective material before moving downwards. He could feel her mound under the fabric, feel her hips roll against his hand as soon as she felt him there, and he gently nudged the elastic and fabric aside to run a pair of fingers along her slit. Then, they drew to the front, and began rolling in little gentle but insistent circles around her clit, and she shivered as she felt the contact.

He drew his hand back, bringing it up so she could taste herself on his fingers. As she did so, she found his leg, and ground herself against it. Dipper groaned himself, and he could feel his cock tighten under the fabric of his own shorts.

Feeling the rush of the persona flow back and remind him of the confidence he was supposed to pretend he had, Dipper took a deep breath, and pulled Cassie away from the wall. She followed as he led her along by the cuffs, before turning to have her lean over the bed, her cuffed hands resting on her elbows.

Cassie made an inquisitive noise, but it turned to a murmur of approval as Dipper pulled aside the intervening material over her ass, and pressed his hardness enclosed in the wetlook nylon against her exposed slit. His twin groaned, and pressed back up against him as his hand fumbled to release his shaft.

Soon, he was exposed to the drafty air of the attic, and while one hand braced against Cassie’s back, the other steadied Dipper’s cock against her opening. She pushed back slightly onto him, but Dipper grabbed her hips and pulled her back fully onto him, groaning as she moaned his name in return.

He took a half-step forward, forcing her more forward onto the bed, angling up slightly towards his hips; the change in pitch of her panting as he pumped against and into her made it apparent that this was evidently a much-preferred arrangement.

The alias of the playboy prodded him to say something, and he leaned forward some and said in a husky voice “So do you want me to cum?”

She made an indistinct whimpering noise, and Dipper, going on impulse, reached forward to gently wrap her hair in his hand and pull insistently but firmly backwards, arching her back slightly against him as he repeated the question.

“I said, did you want me to cum?”

The whimpering of desire from Cassie had shifted to full-bodied moans of pleasure when he had pulled her hair, and she growled back “Fuck _yes,_ cum in me _now.”_

Her words sent him over the edge, and Dipper could feel himself spasm, followed almost immediately by a sustained groan from Cassie as she slowed her hips, instead just pressing as much as she could back against him.

Trying to avoid taking a gasping breath from shock and exertion, Dipper smiled and asked “So how did you like your first taste of domination?”

By way of answer, Cassie leaned back, meeting his mouth in a passionate kiss.

 

* * *

 

The twins had snuck back to their own dimension with more than an hour to spare. The goodbyes were heartfelt, and a few small gifts were exchanged, to be cherished when all they were left with was postcards and intermittent walkie-talkies.

As Mason waved goodbye, he gave Mabel a wink. While the sheer quantity of candy consumed had threatened a sugar coma following their session, she had insisted he take a small jar full of the mix home, to try out with Cassie or even just,a s she put it, “for some home-alone Sweatertown snacking.”

Cassie, for her part, waved goodbye with empty hands. Dipper smiled and waved back, his hand in his pocket as Cassie’s eyes widened slightly before grinning. After the portal had closed, he removed the remote from his pocket and placed it in a safe yet accessible place in his desk. After all, if walkie-talkies worked, they had reasoned, a remote-control vibrator should work a treat as well.

As both sets of twins later discussed and concurred, the visit was just a taste of what was to come for them in the future years together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from adamnemo42: Holiday fun with Mabel, Dipper, Mason, and Cassie.


End file.
